


Not the Ideal Time, Nor Manner, For a Seduction

by angelbabe_cj



Series: Holiday Prompt Ficlets 2015 [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bisexual John Watson, M/M, Mary is not mentioned because it was meant to be short and that was easier, Seduction, a la Sherlock, vague time frame series-wise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 21:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6059304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelbabe_cj/pseuds/angelbabe_cj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has a terrible sense of timing, and sometimes misses social conventions surrounding certain phrases. Which makes the seduction attempt all the more surprising. </p><p>John is just not awake enough for this.</p><p>Holiday Prompts 2015: John/Sherlock, “I think we need to talk.” from Tina</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not the Ideal Time, Nor Manner, For a Seduction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [captandor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captandor/gifts).



> Thank you so much to [Gelsey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Gelsey/pseuds/Gelsey) for the beta. :D

He hadn’t even had a cup of tea. It was Christmas Eve, and he hadn’t even had a cup of tea yet. Actually John was fairly sure there wasn’t any good time to hear those particular words, but Sherlock could have at least waited until he’d managed a cup of tea. But no.

They’d finished a case late the night before, and John had swayed his way through a non-regulation shower and collapsed into bed without putting pyjamas on, fairly sure he’d missed some of the accumulated grime of the last few days, despite Army training that should assure otherwise. 

By some miracle, Sherlock hadn’t decided to wake him up before he’d had his first decent night of sleep in about a week. Oh no, instead he’d decided to lie in ambush and spring the words on him before he was properly awake.

“Who taught you that phrase?” he asked, automatically adversarial due to both the ambush and lack of caffeine. 

“Why would anybody teach me that phrase? It’s a perfectly logical collection of words with an indicated meaning.”

John groaned and filled the kettle, glancing inside as he did so to check it hadn’t been appropriated for some experiment in the night. A particular danger since Sherlock apparently hadn’t fallen into his usual post-case deep sleep. He flicked the switch on and glared at Sherlock.

“Tea first, then we can talk,” he said, coming out of more of an order than he intended. Sherlock, strangely, didn’t protest, just laid back along the sofa in something akin to his thinking pose. Only he seemed to be focussed on John. But since this wasn’t anything new with Sherlock, he decided to ignore it and make tea and toast. It was best to get food while he could. And the bread in the freezer guaranteed it wouldn’t go off, and the strict delineation of food for human consumption and other items meant it wasn’t contaminated with anything else. And since the toaster had a strict ‘for food for human consumption’ label on it which didn’t seem to have moved, he decided to trust that too.

A few minutes later with his mug and his plate of toast with jam (but no butter or marg because they were out of both), John settled into his chair and looked over at Sherlock expectantly. He’d already had several gulps of tea (with the well-hidden dried milk powder which was never quite as good but did at least make it sort of milky) and thought he was probably as equipped to deal with this as he was going to get.

Sherlock hadn’t stopped his examination of John and upon the implied consent he launched himself up, jackknifing in half and to his feet before John could even bring his toast to his mouth. Seconds later he was folding himself into the chair opposite John, bare feet looking almost obscene against the bare fabric of the chair. 

He sat there silently for a long stretch of seconds, examining John. John, who had been on the receiving end of worse from Sherlock this week alone, just sipped tea and ate toast, waiting for whatever bombshell Sherlock was going to drop. It could be anything or nothing. He’d mostly given up trying to anticipate too hard.

“I think we need to talk,” Sherlock said again.

“So you said,” John replied dryly. “So: talk.”

John should have known better than to try and drink or eat when Sherlock had something on his mind. Apparently not though because Sherlock’s next words had him spluttering tea-soaked toast crumbs all down his front.

“I keep thinking about you when I masturbate and was wondering if you could see your way clear to having sex with me in order to alleviate the distraction.”

“What the fuck, Sherlock?!” John yelped once he’d coughed the crumbs clear of his throat. He took several slow breaths before continuing, giving himself a stern talking to in the meantime. _It is Christmas Eve, don’t do anything that will get you thrown out, you have nowhere else to go tomorrow_

“I thought I made myself perfectly clear.”

“Your words were clear, but the logic was missing a few key things,” John said, wondering how many times he’d have to hit his head on the mantle before he passed out and wouldn’t have to deal with this on Christmas Eve. Or possibly any other time.

“Oh, I thought it was perfectly logical,” Sherlock said, surprised. “Usually when an individual becomes a persistent feature of my masturbatory habits I seduce them and the resulting sex is sufficiently unsatisfactory for them to be banished forthwith. I assumed you would prefer a straightforward proposition, although reflecting on the effort you seem to put into getting women to sleep with you that might have been erroneous.”

John tipped his head into the hand not currently holding his tea, trying to massage the buzz of unreality from his head and his eyebrows back from somewhere approaching his hairline, where they appeared to have landed.

The thing was in theory the idea of sleeping with Sherlock wasn’t unappealing. He was an attractive man, but this wasn’t the way he would have gone about it. And if they had sex, he had no intention of it being something which wiped him from Sherlock’s fantasy life. In fact, he’d rather he featured rather more heavily in the future. But still, there were several other barriers, at least as far as Sherlock should be concerned.

He regarded the man, frowning slightly. “Putting aside the utter travesty of a seduction you just attempted, why do you think I might agree?” Let him be clever, it would give John more time to process, and assess, the suggestion.

“You seem to think that I am suffering under the same misapprehension as the majority of London that you are a heterosexual male with no past experience with men. However I was disabused of that notion approximately two months after you moved in with me and you returned from a night supposedly spent in the pub smelling of another man’s aftershave - something by Dior - and dishevelled in a manner which suggested more than a drunken evening and less than a fight. Also you had a touch of stubble burn along your jawline and were striving a little too hard to appear normal. Given that you put in none of your usual preparations which would indicate a date I drew the conclusion that you had had an unplanned sexual encounter with somebody you met at the pub. We live within a suitable distance of several public houses and which display the rainbow flag favoured by the LGBT community where you might have encountered such a person, although it might as well have been any pub or bar within a reasonable walking distance or public transportation route given the relatively cosmopolitan nature of London. 

“In short, I have known you were at least sexually interested in men for quite some time now, although given you make no display of the fact I assume you are unaccustomed to dating those of your own gender.” Sherlock shrugged expressively. “You have been on precisely two dates with men since you have lived here, both of which were going badly before you left to assist me with matters relating to our cases at the time. You have, however, had several more casual sexual encounters with men, all of which you made attempts to conceal in one way or another. I assure you I would have been both unsurprised and unconcerned with your preferences.”

By this time John had pushed away the last few bites of his cold toast and was blinking at Sherlock partially through the spread fingers of the hand on which his head was resting.  


“Brilliant,” he said faintly. It was true that he had tried to hide the fact he sometimes had casual sex with men, but it was less to do with any uncertainty or shame about his sexuality (that was tricky to hold onto when your sister had been an outspoken lesbian since your teens), but instead he hated the reaction many people had to bisexuality. He probably shouldn’t have thrown Sherlock into the same box, but he was fed up of the conversation, plus there was the fact he really didn’t date men, hadn’t since Uni. And then only sporadically. Sherlock had correctly numbered his dates with men in the period since they had met. Two. And he’d only had sex with a handful or so of men.

He breathed out a long sigh.

“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re right, of course, I’m bisexual. You’re wrong about me hiding it because I’m ashamed, which I think is what you’re implying. I’m just bored of the wrong and damaging assumptions people make about bisexuals or men who have sex with men more generally. Plus until the last few years in the Army I wasn’t allowed to express my preferences without the possibility of being dishonourably discharged. It’s a tricky habit to break when you’re known for having a string of girlfriends.” He drained the last of his tea and put his mug and plate on the floor beside his chair, close to the hearth where it wouldn’t be stepped on.

He thought for a few seconds - not quite long enough to spur Sherlock into interrupting his thought process, but enough for him to gather himself slightly. 

“There are several things I need to say. The first is that I suggest you don’t use ‘we need to talk’ again, because cultural implication has it that what follows will be a significantly negative conversation. In relationships it usually means someone has done something bad or the couple are about to break up. It doesn’t simply convey seriousness.

“The second is that, as usual, your timing is appalling. Generally I don’t suggest propositioning people when they’ve had insufficient sleep or before they’re fully awake,” Sherlock was starting to look a little bit disheartened by this, so John decided to skip his point about wanting more finesse for another time. Or perhaps he could just make his point another time with active demonstration.

“I have other points, but I keep coming back to the point where you think about me when your hand is on your dick and,” here he stood and stepped forwards until he could lean over and whisper the last part in Sherlock’s ear, “I was wondering if I could ask for a practical demonstration.” He flicked his tongue out to tease the skin behind Sherlock’s ear, gratified at the tiny noise this elicited. 

Now to prove himself worthy of a repeat performance. That was a fun prospect. An excellent way to spend Christmas Eve. 

The thought that he should probably attempt to go and buy food at some point crossed his mind, but he was far more interested in drawing more of those sounds out of Sherlock.


End file.
